


I see fire | Piping is unnecessary

by Anonymous



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Deliberate Badfic, Gen, Not Incest, Not Lemon, Not Slash, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, not yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:30:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6320140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I see fire | Piping is unnecessary

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I am ashes where I was once fire | gay asbestos elves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158287) by [havisham](https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham). 



> There were some issues with canon compliance and reader accessibility in the original version of this fic. Although I don’t want to be discouraging of the original author, this fandom has really fallen into disgrace. I have not maintained the in-text piping of the original fic, since I believe that AO3’s decisions involving their character piping were completely fair, useful, and reflective of the needs of the community. Unlike the plebes we’re scraping off Tumblr these days, I’m going with Finweg and Maithros, as the Professor’s oldest napkins indicated were his truest intentions. I have included the proper þ in Maithros's dialogue, to indicate that he is respectful of his father's philological choices. 
> 
> I welcome concrit! This was betaed twice, which is honestly the minimum effort anyone should go to. I thought the first beta's advice was a bit diletanttish, however, so most of it was fed to a dragon. Also I never waited for the second one to read it.

Finweg and Maithros, close in friendship as they were in kind, were laying in bed together, holding each other tightly and pausing in their recitations of poetry to occasionally kiss (AN: this is NOT yaoi!). Both their eyes were gray (AN: this is the only acceptable color for Ñoldor).

“Cousin,” Finweg gasped, shivering under his cousin’s touch, “thou seem ill at heart.”

“Verily, cousin, dearest heart, I fear that we are trapped in an winless battle. Perhaps even a metaphor—of what, I do not know.”

At this point, Finwë embraced his cousin (AN: this is not a lemon!) and whispered breathily, “Thou shouldst not worry. Nor tarry. The hills are fair teeming with orcs and we must do battle with them ere the Nightfall of Middle-earth.”

“I feel that thou art reckleþ,” Maithros said, responsibly.

“Have thou another plan?”

Maithros sighed and played with Finweg’s hair. “I can only hope that our deep, innocent, pure, untainted love will triumph over the forceþ of evil.”

Oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o

Maithros emerged from the pile of gore that he had been buried under rather late in the Battle of Tears Unnumbered. His favorite brother, Kanäfinwe, rushed into his arms.

“Our couþin is þlain!” Känafinwe cried. “The one we all loved þo much!”

“Finrod, most fair and wiþe of the Ñoldor?” Maithros asked. He tore out great hanks of red hair in grief.  

“The other one!” Cynegrim Fœgerfeax wailed.

“Artaniþ! Alaþ, a maid’s place is not on the battlefield!” declared Maithros.

Cranthir, ruddy-faced, was concerned that there were still enough cousins left to go all day. “It waþ Fingon.”

Maithros immediately fell to his knees and took out his harp, so that he could compose a lay of grief.

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Fell things were afoot in the camp of the sons of Curufinwë. Kanafïnwe noticed that the air in Maithros’s tent seemed particularly sour, and it was so cold that he was forced to huddle even closer to his brother’s perfectly formed body during their nightly strategy discussions.

“Thinkeþt thou, brother dearest,” Kanáfinwe asked while nibbling on the redhead’s ear, which was exquisitely sensitive, “that we may be haunted by the ghost of our couþin?”

“Which couþin?” drawled Maithros. He put his hand down the front of Kánáfinwe’s tights, slowly caressing his brother’s drooling elfhood. (AN: stop interpreting my stories as slashy!)

“Our favorite couþin!” Kanåfinwe sang.

“Artaresto?”

Känäfïnwe sobbed into Maithros’s shoulder as he ejaculated pearlescently, while Finweg’s houseless spirit looked on with jealousy.

Oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o

“Hast thou considered letting me possess you?” Finweg asked Kânafinwe one day.

“Maithroþ loveþ thee very well. Thou should not let it bother thee to watch thy beloved and hiþ brother laying together in LACE-compliance every night.”

“I just feel a little forgotten,” Finweg said.

“Finweg,” Kanãfinwe said with great force in his voice, “thou knoweth that incest is against our nature.”

“Thou art right; I shall go into the West, and diminish,” replied Finweg.

~*~*~*~*~the end*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

I HAVE INCLUDED MY FANCASTS FOR THE THREE CHARACTERS (yum!)

I am not one for those effeminate, hairless elf-types, so I picked some REAL MEN to represent these brave and battle-hardened characters.

    

               Maithros                                                                  Finweg                                                            Kanàfinwe

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [a wisp of smoke | Fingon and Maedhros Do IT](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6347218) by Anonymous 




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